


Fishing License

by KKGlinka



Category: Doctor Who: Virgin New Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-08
Updated: 2004-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KKGlinka/pseuds/KKGlinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bernice thinks she's solving a puzzle after another rough mission with the 7th Doctor leaves Ace injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fishing License

Ace is cleaning something metallic, tubular, probably one of her weapons when she looks up suddenly to glare at Bernice. Assuming an expression of mock innocence, Benny waves her fingers. Caught staring again. She hates that, how inaccurate Ace's body language is, almost arbitrary. A bit like the Doctor's really and Bernice wonders if the soldier is even aware of that. Probably not. 

But now the younger woman has stopped glaring and her eyebrows form arcs of amusement, a poorly suppressed smirk twisting her face. 

Bernice tracks the gaze to the, what is it, tie she's wearing. _Ah. I've gone and made another era specific cultural mistake._ She thought it went rather well with the slacks she had also found in the TARDIS wardrobe, but apparently, something was not quite right about her ensemble. 

Ace was pointedly ignoring her now, having returned to her task, though her face remained amused. She wouldn't comment. She rarely did. 

Turning to amble down a corridor, though not the same one through which she had arrived, as that one had disappeared. She wouldn't be at all surprised to discover that Ace had requested the TARDIS to help her "look it up" to quote the vernacular. Benny waited for the Library to present itself. And there it was, the ornate doors opening of their own accord. Of course, she could have just told me. 

There: Twentieth Century, Human, Culture, Dress and Style: Tie. An ornamental article of clothing, generally consisting of a scarf, tied or wrapped in a specific manner around the neck. Typically worn during formal occasions by men or uniformed service personnel. Outside of civil service, worn by women for recreational purposes. Subcategory: Uniformed Services. Subcategory: Transvestites. 

She clasped her chin and laughed, silently. Oh, it was that again. With all her knowledge of that century, she still found its definitions of sexually appropriate behavior amusing, in a horrified sort of way. Certainly, there were words in her own century to describe certain sexual foibles such as preferring only one's own gender, when it could be identified or only preferring members of another species. That sort of thing. Then there was Ace's point in history, separated by only a few hundred years from Benny's, yet so archaic in some ways. So it seemed, Ace still ascribed gender roles in relation to dress style, leaving little or no room for negotiation. It was all very peculiar. 

* * *

This time, it's the Doctor who catches her looking but he only raises a finger to his lips in a "shush" gesture. He walks silently across the console floor and fetches a small object from the pocket of his jacket, which is dangled from the coat hanger. He tosses the object into the air, throwing a grin in her direction, and the object vanishes. The Doctor pockets his hands and disappears back into the main corridor. Bernice pretends to ignore his trans-dimensional parlor trick. 

She watched him do that in front of Ace once, seen him wait expectantly. Ace, wearing her shades was almost indecipherable, except for the lock of her shoulders beneath her molecularly fitted uniform. Finally, when the Doctor would not stop staring, Ace lifted her chin in a direction perpendicular to the imaginary point in space. The Doctor had looked immensely pleased and then severely put out as Ace stepped neatly around him. Fido would not fetch. 

Bernice has an unnerving version of thousands of yo-yos and golf balls bobbing up and down within their trans-dimensional pockets of space all throughout the TARDIS. She wonders if Ace can see them or simply knows where they are the same way she senses temporal activity. She wonders if Ace realizes how impossible both those things should be for a human to do. 

She considers waking Ace to ask, as politely as possible of course, if she can see through dimensions. Then she realizes that's garbage. Ace is only human with very human eyeballs hidden by her plastic shades. She's still mostly human, at any rate, but Benny wonders for how long. 

In her sleep, Ace twitches her trigger finger and the motion is enough to cause pain along her cast-enveloped arm. Bernice remembered the Doctor wrapping what looked like gum around that broken arm and the gum had turned into a lime green shell as it dried. She remembered the way Ace stood with her head bowed as if oblivious to pain while he set her bones. That man, if one could call him that, kept strange things in his pockets. 

Ace mumbles something that sounds guttural and alien because the TARDIS doesn't bother to translate dreams for each other's benefit. So it was something in her native tongue, in English, a language so changed by the twenty-sixth century as to be extinct. Nevertheless, the ship understands the complaint. Bernice can't help smiling as the couch on which Ace is laying changes shape, adjusting its contours to become softer, more rounded and forgiving of battle injuries. 

* * *

The three of them are engaged in a task that involves throwing a fine line with a hook attached at the end of it into a stream. After a while, Ace whoops and gradually pulls in the line to reveal a fish, wriggling in the sunlight. Colors shimmer along the scales, red, coral pink, orange and yellow. She throws the fish into a steel bucket full of water and three other struggling animals. 

"Oi, Professor, y'could've sprung for some poles." Ace has some line wrapped around a gloved fist. 

"You seem to be doing fine," he answers in an abstracted tone. 

"It would be easier with poles." 

"It would be easier to use the food dispenser." 

"It can't do fried fish." 

Benny stopped peering at a particularly unusual rock formation and jerked her gaze to the bucket of squirming fish. "Fried? We're going to fry those fish?" 

Ace grins over her shoulder. "What'd you think we were gonna do? Make hats out of them?" 

"Oh please don't tell me you're going to eat them, because that would be absolutely disgusting." She peers down into the bucket and semi-translucent silver eyes stare back, gills flaring a wet red. "You," she points a finger at Ace, "are revolting." 

"Fine. I'll make sure you're watching when I gut them." 

"You cut them up before eating them?" 

"Before frying and eating them. And yeah. Got to scale them too. You'll like that part." There was something faintly malicious about her grin. "You're looking a bit green around the gills, Benny." 

"If that's a colloquialism for 'sick', then yes. It's disgusting and I can't believe the Doctor's letting you do this." She waited for his admonition, then glanced over to find him studying the rock formation. 

Ace grinned wider and began to wrap the line around her hand. "Well, if you're not eating then I'm done fishing." 

Despite herself, Bernice did watch as Ace prepared the fish for cooking. Using the blade of her flat black combat knife, she scraped the clear scales off the skin. Then, she slit the throat, cutting shallowly along the gills, then made another long slit down the belly. A snap and twist of the neck and the guts followed along, trailing like slugs behind the head. Ace threw the entire mass back into the stream while Bernice fought her gag reflex. 

Ace looked up, searching for the Doctor. "Oi! These aren't poisonous, are they?" 

The Doctor, not moving from his cross-legged position in front of the rock formation, waved a negligent hand. "You'll be fine." 

"That doesn't answer my question." 

"Only the blue one is." 

Ace snorted and held up the metallic blue fish in front of Bernice. "Here. You want this one?" 

"Ace," the Doctor interrupted in a low reproving tone. "Don't antagonize her." 

Benny stuck out her tongue at Ace, who responded by thrusting the fish carcass at her face. She felt another retch and jerked back. Ace laughed and threw the carcass over her shoulder, with unerring aim, into the water. 

"You could have told her before she killed it!" 

The Doctor merely hummed in reply. 

The younger and more revolting woman busied herself mounting the three remaining fish onto branched sticks, belly flaps held open, tails skyward. She planted the sticks over a small fire she had set earlier, then went to wash her hands with sand and water by the stream bank. 

Ace was burying the remains of the fire and bones while Bernice struggled to remember what an appetite was when the Doctor stood. He dusted the bottom of his still white trousers with his hands and made his way over to them, his eyes locked in concentration. 

Bernice took that as her cue to stand also. "Doctor, did you know that among humans it's creepy and rude to stare." 

"Hm?" He raised his brows but she wasn't fooled. "Ah, well." He dusted his hat, the umbrella dangling off his wrist. 

"Well? What is it, Professor?" 

He grinned toothily at Ace. "Qrlk'mnk says you're disgusting." 

"Who?" 

The Doctor pointed at the rock formation. 

Ace rolled her eyes. 

Bernice was pleased that their visit hadn't been for the express purpose of indulging in barbaric hunter-gatherer practices, after all. 

* * *

They're lying curled together behind a rock outcropping that they both know perfectly well is a sentient life form. Unfortunately, from Bernice's point of view, it isn't because Ace finally relented and has agreed to shag. No, as usual, circumstances are more dire. She tries not to look at the broken arm of her fellow companion. 

Trying not to do something invariably leads to the doing and this time is no exception. It's not that Ace isn't always injured in some fashion due to the nature of her employ, but still.... It's broken in two place. At one junction, bone protrudes in a jagged stump from the flesh. The entire mess is covered by a very blood former vest but the outline remains visible. 

And her body temperature is low. Bernice closes her eyes, knowing she should stop stroking her, that Ace is a terribly tactile person and will take it entirely the wrong way but it's the only way she has to offer comfort right now. That's important - letting others know you care. Some people won't hear it, can't see it, and so she uses that one form of communication that even newborn infants understand with accuracy. 

The human body releases endorphins when touched. The cortisone and seratonin levels of the brain drop as dopamine production increases, producing lethargy and a sense of calm. The body responds by cutting back production of adrenaline, slowing the heart rate and preserving energy. Right now, Ace doesn't have the energy to shiver. 

That bleeding git of a time lord better get here soon. Just in case the Doctor is listening, Bernice sends him a few choice hateful thoughts. He could have checked the local laws. He could have found out ahead of time that fishing was illegal on this planet and would result in being chased and mangled by very large and strong figures of authority. Was a little common sense so much to ask? 

A barely audible, yet unmistakably angry sound permeates her thoughts. She finds the glimmer of brown eyes, slitted open and glaring, yes, glaring, at her. Bernice smiles, pleased her pugnacious friend is conscious. 

"Hello. Still feel like crap?" Privately, she hoped Ace didn't feel anything. That's what painkillers from her military pack were for, after all. 

Ace growled. 

"Ah, I see. Very erudite. Try not to look at your arm, eh?" 

Ace growled again. 

"Erudite, an adjective that means.... No? Not what you're complaining about. Hm." She considered what could be wrong, besides the obvious and looked around. Attackers? No. Doctor? No. Stinging ants? She peered hard at the mossy ground. Nope. So what could...?" 

Ace was making a gun shape with her left hand and glaring again. 

"You didn't bring it, remember?" Her reply was met with another very angry sound and Bernice raised her free hand to gesticulate in exasperation. Instead, all she said was, "Oh." 

Sighing, Ace closed her eyes and returned to her crucial task of resting without falling unconscious. 

"I don't crukkin' believe this." Bernice carefully put her hand down on the ground. "You just spent the past few minutes hissing and spitting at me because I had my hand on your tit?" Bernice saw her lips twitch into an almost-smile. "You'll shag your way across the seven galaxies but I can't have so much as a feel up on account of your archaic hang-ups?" She muttered, more in exasperation than anger, laying back down. "Hypocritical little toady. Three years in Space Fleet, the bloody marines.... You know what?" She leaned back up and waited until Ace opened one eye. "I'm going to wait until you fall asleep and then I'll put my hand down your pants." She gave a disgruntled nod for emphasis. 

For her part, Ace made an indeterminate noise that could pass for either a laugh or a snort, then closed her eye. 

* * *

Ace fumbled with the sleeve of her shirt, her growing frustration evident. She stumbled out her door and Benny shook her head in bemusement. It never ceased to amaze her how the younger woman could shift from studied grace to bumbling incompetance. _Ah, a genetic trait_ , she supposed. 

Or frustration. 

It was warranted. Sometimes, the Doctor seemed to forget that Ace could not heal from injuries as quickly as him. More truthfully, his behavior had become a trend. She doubted Ace had healed from their previous mission when they had engaged in their most recent adventure on Inuina IV. 

Bernice pushed off the hallway wall and went to help Ace, who was now slumped desolately, staring at the reclariant sleeve. 

"You want me to help you with that?" 

Ace sighed loudly, her eyes exhausted. "I'm not in the mood. Piss off." 

Benny laughed softly. "You'll have to explain that one to me." 

"Uh huh." 

Holding out the shirt flap, she guided Ace's hand into the sleeve and proceeded to button the garment. "See? My intentions were completely innocent." 

Ace was giving her the thousand-yard stare, as if expecting the other shoe to drop. 

Benny bit back a retort. _She really is tired._ "Well, you don't have to look at me like that. After all, you said 'no' the first time, right?" 

"Hmph. That's like the Doctor telling me not to wander off." 

Turning in midstep, Benny rounded on her. "I," she waved her finger, "do not make make unsolicited advances." 

"So, what? I have 'fuck me' sign hanging over my head?" 

Benny kept a straight face and looked over Ace's head in mock consideration. 

"See? You're doing it again." 

"No, you're being over-sensitive. In fact, do you know what I think?" She didn't give Ace a chance to remonstrate. "I think, with the latest gamut of adventures you haven't gotten laid." 

There was no answer. 

"Ahah! You're just projecting onto me." 

"If there's one thing I know it's when someone is checking me out." 

Benny shrugged. "I like to look attractive people." 

"I'm flattered," she answered, sounding less than so. "But you look that way at practically every sentient being we cross." 

"I'm an open-minded individual." 

"I think there's a word for that." 

"Unflattering, I'm sure." 

"It's subjective." 

She chose not to point out that they were, by certain standards, flirting because Ace was more pleasant when she wasn't being hostile. 

"Next you'll blame it on my uniform." 

"Nah. If I wanted to gawk at well-muscled people in tight black uniforms I would've signed on with Space Fleet." 

"Instead, you were drafted." 

"Exactly. And we all know how that turned out. Do you think this hallway goes anywhere?" 

"No." Ace rested agains the wall, disgruntled. "TARDIS is playing games with us." 

"The old biddy is a match-maker at heart." Benny placed a hand over her chest for maximum effect. 

"She's just doing it to keep you off the Doctor." 

"I am not - what exactly are you implying?" 

Ace smiled smugly and crossed one foot over the other. "Just sayin'." 

"Does that bother you?" 

"Nah. Not really. It's weird but we already established your weirdness." 

"Why? Because he looks like a sinister gnome?" 

"No, because he's a Time Lord." 

"Doesn't mean they don't have sex." Ace shuddered and Bernice laughed. She leaned beside her. "And that's what I don't understand. "Three years in my century, in the largest mobile military organization and you still have these absurdly fascinating hangups about a perfectly normal biological function. " Out of the corner of her gaze, she saw Ace roll her eyes. 

"You make it sound like sneezing." 

"That's just it. Any strange man can walk up to you, make an odd remark and you don't bat an eyelash. If I so much as look at you the wrong way, you get your back up." 

"I do not." 

"You do too! You're denying it now. Your shoulders are stiff, your jaw is locked and if both your arms weren't broken, you'd be making fists. You're angry with a capital 'A'." 

"Because you won't quit, so take a hint." 

"But why?" 

"Quit." 

She sidled closer, testing her luck. "Or what? You're hit me? It's not your style." She raised a hand in Ace's general direction to find it batted swiftly away. 

"Back off. I don't want to hurt you." 

"You won't hurt me. And you won't run away. In fact, I'm counting on your psychological inability to be submissive to keep you here." She held her breath. 

Ace fidgeted. She jittered her crossed leg, ground her teeth and blew air noisily to push loose hair aside. Her eyes were downcast against the challenge. Whether she left or she stayed she would be conceding defeat. "You're being really persistant." 

Benny grinned. "Want to know a secret?" 

"You're a transexual silurian?" 

"No. Sometimes when you're not paying attention, you forget to be hostile." 

"So?" 

"So.... When we left Heaven, you were with Mhaire." 

"What's your point?" 

"You're exactly her type." 

Ace fidgeted again. "Fine. I'm going back to my room." 

Bernice looked down both ends of the now featureless hallway. "Really?" 

Taking the cue, Ace realized the TARDIS had pulled one of her favorite tricks on them. Her door was gone. All the doors were gone. She turned on the wall and kicked it savagely. "Bitch." 

Unable to contain herself, Benny guffawed, trying to muffle the offensive laughter with her hands. 

"Shut up. This isn't funny." 

"It's hysterical." 

"Of all the god-damn times for her to pull this stunt." 

She got her mirth under control, wiping tears from her eyes. "Obviously, the TARDIS wants everyone to love each other and get along." 

Ace snorted at her then stalked in one of the two offered directions. Benny jogged to catch up, pocketed her hands and kept pace. 

"So, where are you going?" 

"This way." 

"Ah. And for how long?" 

"Until I die of boredom." 

"Not the most rational course of action." 

"Since when have I been rational?" 

"As much as it pains me to admit it, you are almost always rational to a fault." 

"High praise, coming from a professor of your calibre." 

"I'd like to agree." 

"I doubt the Doctor would." 

"On the contrary, I find your cold-blooded rationality to be your greatest similarity. That and your absolute anarchism." 

"If you allitereate one more time, I'm going to strangle you." 

"You noticed." 

"Don't you ever get tired of being witty." 

"No. Keeps me sane." She flashed another smile. "And you can't strangle me. I'll bet you can't even hold your favorite vibrator." 

"Okay. See that was below - " 

"The belt? You're not wearing one." She rocked on her heels. "Now you're getting into the spirit of things." 

"Do you ever shut up?" 

"I will only put up with one silent, brooding, traveling companion at one time and today, that's the Doctor." 

"So you're talking my ears off for my own good?" 

"I wouldn't give away my psychological advantage," she replied, doing her best not to sound overly smug. 

Ace drifted to a stop. "Yeah. I get it. Attrition." She looked up, brown eyes unreadable. How about this: I let you kiss me and you leave me to my sulk." 

Benny blinked, nonplussed. After a moment, she grinned full force again. "You know what else?" 

"You were screwing with my head again?" 

"Nah." There were times to be cautious and times to capitalize on brief opportunities. This was the latter. Using Ace's moment of confusion, Benny grasped her chin, dashing in to steal a kiss. She heard a gasp. 

Ace stumbled backwards, raising one hand in a clumsy shove. Then she stopped and yielded. 

Bernice wondered briefly if it was because of the bargain or genuine interest. She was going to press her advantage. Her lips were so soft for someone who looked so hard, the breath warm, a bit minty. And she was kissing back. 

She broke off, taking a measured breath to slow her heart. "Okay. Bad idea," she muttered. 

Ace made no attempt to extract herself from between Benny and the wall. She licked her lips, gaze averted, darting, then met Benny's eyes. "Your mistake. Don't say I didn't warn you." 

It was the only warning she got that Ace intended to continue before being pulled down by an awkward but determined hand. Bernice offered no resistance, insinuated a leg between hers, pressing forward. Absently, she was mindful of Ace's other arm, trapped in a cast against her belly. 

She tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of the younger woman's head, taking the lead offered. Funny that, the silent trade of dominance. Then again, Ace prefered men nearly exclusively and might not be as sure of this as Bernice. 

Not that she was displaying great ignorance, either. Ace wrapped a leg around hers, grinding her mons against Benny's thigh, her eyes closed lips parted. With the splinted wrist, she kept trying to brace herself, failing with a hiss of pain. 

Benny leaned closer to lick the pulse at her neck, earning a gentle moan. She didn't dare say anything, merely spiraled her left arm under Ace's, bearing both of them agains the wall and hooked her free foot inside the other woman's ankle, knee to knee. It left Bernice only one hand available but that was more than enough. 

Ace opened her eyes, panting unevenely, a glimmer of anxiety in them. 

Benny smiled, a bit pained by the heavy thrum of blood in her belly, her pelvis and the friction of unfortunately tight slacks. How could she have known this would happen? She brushed back a few strands of Ace's hair from her temple, silencing any belated protest with a thoroughly invasive kiss. 

In a quick rush, she had Ace's shirt unbottoned, the irony obvious, stroking her palm flat over sternum to belly to catch her fingers at the waistband. then, back up again, the muscles of Ace's belly clenched, weight bearing forward, down on Benny's shoulder and thigh. 

She switched her attention to the breasts, slightly damp with sweat and - oh blessed be - nipples hard. Ace jerkd, her hips rocking forward. She growled, mumbled and Benny chuckled. 

"If you threaten me, I won't finish." She heard a low whine and sent another thanks for whoever invented twentieth century sweatpants. there were no fastenings to undo, just the easy stretch of cloth and further discovery that Ace didn't bother with underclothing. Slick, slick heat and soft hair. 

Her head fell forward, weight on her eblow now, arm wrapped around Ace's shoulde to keep her from twisting out of position. It would be easier on the floor but she slid her fingers along the center, past the clit and in assumption, probed deep inside swollen flesh. She rocked, thumb making lazy circles over the erect nub. 

Ace made a noise too incoherent to be a word, a low sound, and tried to buck her hips, increase speed. 

Benny angled her hip to pin Ace's pelvis, bracing her hand over her crotch and used her body to creat a rythm, slow, methodical and maddening. It wouldn't last, it couldn't last. 

She was losing control, the soft mucles of her vulva tightening, clenching, her stomach cramped. She fastened her mouth on Ace's, clacking against teeth, thrusting her tongue and heard someone groaning. 

Ace clamped her knees around her legs, body jerking hard, convulsively and Benny felt the surge of wetness around her hand, down her wrist. She felt teeth on her shoulder, startled, she ground in hard and lurched, spasming in a murky surprise, sinking to her knees. 

She gulped for air, leaning heavily on her hands. Ace had her head thrown back, taking gratifyingly deep lungfuls, catching her own breath. Her legs sprawled uselessly to either side. Benny clambered around, falling agains the wall, conscious that Ace was watching surrepitiously. 

Bernice started to chuckle and was interupted by a muttered expletive from her friend. "Oh?" 

"I said," a deep breath, "shit." 

"Yeah. Okay." Benny lolled her head to smile. "This is the part where you claim to hate my guts and only tolerate me for the Doctor's sake, eh?" 

"Shut up." 

"Do I get a cuddle?" 

"Just shut up."


End file.
